


Tragic Danish Snow-Kisses

by lucymordy



Category: Hamlet - Shakespeare
Genre: Canon Compliant, Kissing, M/M, Snow
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-11
Updated: 2016-07-11
Packaged: 2018-07-22 20:32:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 528
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7453024
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lucymordy/pseuds/lucymordy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes you just need to read between the dialogue.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tragic Danish Snow-Kisses

“The air bites shrewdly,” Hamlet began, leaning in to kiss Horatio’s neck just above his dark brown scarf.

Horatio cleared his throat and Hamlet could almost hear him say, hamlet you’re so fucking pretentious.

“It is very cold.” Hamlet corrected, leaning back against the castle turret. The two had been shivering in the icy slush (not snow quite yet, that would come later) for almost fifteen minutes now.

“It is a nipping an an eager air.” Horatio agreed, and leaned forward into the smoky breaths of the prince until their lips met. As soon as they broke apart, Hamlet pressed his body into Horatio’s, nuzzling his chest in a weak effort to gain some warmth.

Hamlet was just small enough to fit his head directly under Horatio’s chin. His height, or lack thereof, was a point of self consciousness, up until he met Horatio. When they first began to date was when Hamlet discovered that their bodies fit together like snug puzzle pieces. He was just the perfect height, actually.

Horatio embraced back, before stepping away and taking his heat with him. Hamlet made a face, but Horatio shushed him before he could say anything, instead removing his scarf and gently wrapping it around his boyfriend’s neck. Hamlet shivered at the touch of his frozen fingers on his sensitive skin.   
Hamlet breathed in sharply, but replied before they could kiss again, 

“What hour now?”

Horatio reached into Hamlet’s coat’s pocket and pulled out his cracked iPhone. The spider webs were memories, memories of bad times for the prince. He didn’t often become angry, preferring to stick to depression, but when he did, it wasn’t pretty.

But now, he was anything but, and Horatio knew that. Horatio could read Hamlet like a book. All it took was practice and having Hamlet’s heart spilled onto him like a shower of rain. Or snow.

It had begun to flurry around them, and Horatio’s fingers shook as he unlocked the phone and checked the time with squinted eyes.

“I think it lacks of twelve.”

Hamlet snatched his phone back, taking it as a personal insult that Horatio could not read the numbers that were so large on the screen.

Horatio snickered as Hamlet returned the phone to its sanctuary, safe and warm away from the snow.

Cutting him off, Hamlet stood on tippy-toes to kiss Horatio’s somehow-still-warm lips again. Horatio’s fingers played on the back of Hamlet’s pea coat, drumming and rubbing. 

The sound of a door slamming came from beside them and Hamlet must have had some sort of heart attack at the noise. The two sprung apart, and Horatio wiped his mouth of any spittle while Hamlet crossed his arms across his chest.

“No, it is struck,” came the voice of Marcellus, one of the castle guards.

He raised his eyebrows at the sight of Horatio’s trademark scarf around Hamlet’s pale neck, but made no remark about it.

“Indeed? I heard it not.” Horatio’s voice shook. Hamlet disguised a laugh as a soft cough, trying not to meet Horatio’s eyes.

Marcellus looked at Horatio then at Hamlet then back at Horatio.

It was going to be a long, awkward watch.


End file.
